


the renegades

by monarchs



Series: The Ark and Its Renegades [1]
Category: The Social Network (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dystopia, Confessions, Drama, Dystopia, Happy Ending, Homelessness, Hurt/Comfort, Hybrids, M/M, Noah's Ark, Rain, Romance, Slice of Life, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-01
Updated: 2019-10-01
Packaged: 2020-11-08 22:49:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,303
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20843309
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/monarchs/pseuds/monarchs
Summary: Eduardo catches a cold. It wouldn't have been a big deal if Mark and Eduardo weren't runaways in a dystopian world submerged in eternal rain.





	the renegades

**Author's Note:**

> Happy tsnversary everyone!

Eduardo fell in love the first time they met. Or at least, that would be the only way he'd describe the encounter.

Eduardo had just slipped out from a crack in the barrier when Mark bulldozered into him. They went toppling over, rolling in tall grass and mud, down the hill, only stopping inches from the wire fence. Mark had put his hand over Eduardo's mouth, pushing down hard and unmercifully, staring into Eduardo's eyes with murderous intent. Mark lay low, their bodies impossibly close, clothes wet from dark rain.

It took a few seconds before Eduardo understood that Mark was actually hiding, that he was being chased, that he too, was a runaway. 

Officers were shouting from afar. Whistles being blown back and forth, flashlights searching the grounds and buildings.

Rain rolled down Mark's still face, his eyes cold, almost belligerent, but also filled with fear.

Eduardo didn't struggle, only tried to blink the rain away, tried to make out Mark, despite the darkness of the night. Wet curly hair, small ears, clear eyes, lips curved like the tips of a bow, a narrow wound at the side of his neck that looked like it would scar.

He was, quite frankly, beautiful, despite the circumstances. Despite the dim lighting, and the never-ending rain.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The Ark felt light-years away, and so did that particular memory. They were getting closer and closer to their destination, but also further and further from civilization. 

While Officers were much scarcer in the outer zones, dry clothes and canned food were harder and harder to come by too. Finding sealed bottles of Ginger Plus pills was like hitting the jackpot, and anything useful that hadn't rotted from the rain was like small mercies left by providence.

Eduardo watched as Mark perched on top of an old Volvo, its red hood corroded by rain. He was gauging the flow of water beneath the car, with a prodding stick he picked up from the last zone. 

("Six inches of moving water could sweep you," Mark had said.)

"Can't move tonight," Mark announced, scowling at his stick.

It wasn't the worst place they'd been, considering the last time they'd landed in a lair of tiger mosquitoes. They could do with one or two more nights here. Eduardo was glad, because he was really starting to feel the soreness in his throat building up to something nasty. He was coming down with a cold, or something, and he really wanted to rest. Besides, there didn't seem to be any chance of Officers patrolling around here, because it was so remote from the Ark. 

They had broken into an apartment (the foundations were still all right, it seemed, because the rain was lighter here), found a bottle of Ginger Plus and two bottles of vodka and a few cans of black German beer. And some bandages and warm clothes and bedding and a way to boil water. And the windows had screens and it didn't smell like something died here, which was something. Because things died in abandoned zones, zones like these where even ghosts didn't loiter around for fun.

Mark was cleaning himself up when Eduardo really started feeling woozy with exhaustion. When Mark came out, Eduardo was hot and feverous. 

"Shit, Wardo, why didn't you just take the pills?" Mark murmured. He had a towel over his head. The ends of his hair were still dripping wet. 

They only had a bottle of Gin Plus left - Eduardo had thought he could skip a dose or two, save some for when it mattered.

But in a world with constant rain, it always mattered, didn't it?

Mark scurried around and before Eduardo really understood what Mark was doing, a wet cloth smacked his forehead unceremoniously, and then Eduardo was being given a pill and water to swallow.

Eduardo wasn't that great at swallowing so he had to chew - the taste was sour. It was Advanced Vitamin C. They only had a few of those left, and Mark had just given him three. 

"I found half a bottle in another apartment," Mark said (lied). "Just sleep, Wardo."

Mark was going to be the lookout for a while, Eduardo thought, but he couldn't help it, slipping into sleep, looking for solace (it begged him). He thought of his parents, of where he grew up (a land of sun) and of the first time he met Mark, on the outskirts of the Ark.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It took five weeks of constant rain before people realized something was wrong. 

Eduardo remembered when he'd seen the odd patterns in the clouds. He was sitting in his father's study, at the windowsill, an Earth science book open on his lap as he looked out.

The storm only took three hours before reaching Eduardo's city (he remembered the way the news reporters emphasized that, the number of hours), and from then on, the weather forecast saw nothing but never-ending rain.

Pine trees lost their pines, turned a sickly yellow because of acid precipitation. Graffiti murals, the metal coat of cars, and brick walls slowly washed away with corrosion. Fruit stands disappeared. Vegetables became scarce, and expensive.

Air quality was next. People started wearing masks. Eduardo had a black one with his initials in white on its side. His father had their house better insulated to reduce air leaks. He remembered the workers having no masks to wear.

Three months later, they had to repaint the house because of mold; there were new forms of it, growing on walls, flourishing in green and purple, with fuchsia spots. Eduardo remembered having to sleep with his mother because his room had been inhabitable. 

Five years later, they had to move out, and Eduardo was packing his things, when he thought, there won't be sun on graduation day. There won't be sun on any day, anymore.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
God, it was hot, Eduardo thought. It felt like he was drowning in his own sweat. 

He turned on his side, and opened his eyes. He hadn't noticed that he had them closed, didn't know how long he had them closed either.

It was dim, probably late afternoon. Mark was pouring water into a plastic bottle filled with gravel and leaves. It took Eduardo a bit to realize Mark was filtering water. They must have run out of household filters.

"Fuck, where did you put the limestone?" Mark murmured.

Eduardo scoffed, pointing weakly at his raincoat. Mark gave him a look, like he hadn't expected Eduardo to be awake, but then quickly shuffled to Eduardo's coat and went through the pockets.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eduardo remembered Mark going through his pockets right after their tumultuous first encounter.

"What are you--" Eduardo exclaimed, feeling very much invaded.

"Don't you have anything useful?" Mark said, scowling. Eduardo only had a couple of ration stamps, a photo of his parents, and an old world aneroid barometer he had found at a pawnbroker's shop. He hadn't really planned his escape. 

"A barometer?" Mark asked incredulously. Eduardo had stared back, surprised that Mark knew what it was. "The fuck are you doing with a barometer?"

"You know what it is?" Eduardo squeaked.

Mark narrowed his eyes, shoving Eduardo off impatiently, "god, it's like you don't care you're being robbed."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
The barometer was for measuring air pressure, and by extension, the weather, Eduardo explained to Mark, like he was back home tutoring Earth science to the neighbour's son again.

Mark had listened to Eduardo carefully, and decided to take it. However, he let Eduardo follow him (though crankily) and sooner than later, he gave the barometer back.

Somehow, one day, they were suddenly on the same team, suddenly working together, thick as thieves, though they weren't thieves, only two runaways, looking for the sun.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
It wasn't easy at first. The Officers were determined to track down Mark, for whatever reason. They had doubled the patrols, sent search teams, made announcements across the Inner Zones.

For a few days, Eduardo had been afraid he was running away with a criminal. But as he watched Mark bicker about cleanliness, about rain making his hair curl even more, about Eduardo's towering height, which made hiding all the more difficult, Eduardo couldn't help but feel like the guy was running away from... the same things as Eduardo. Not because he'd done something bad, but. But because he couldn't stay anymore, no matter what.

Mark never really slept. Eduardo first thought it was because he didn't trust Eduardo, but as it turned out, whenever they stopped to rest, they rested close together, and Mark would curl onto himself, his back touching Eduardo's side, digging into it, even, not afraid that Eduardo could do anything to him right then. Bound him, rob him, stab him, choke him. 

Mark never really slept because he never really seemed to be asleep. He was alert, almost all hours, turning his head to check the perimeters even at the slightest sound of a leaf falling. Even in the dark, he'd look, as if he could see, as if he was afraid something monstrous would pounce out at him, at them, at any time.

Even now as Eduardo lay sick and mostly unconscious, he could feel Mark's back on his side. He could feel Mark stir from time to time, listening to sounds beyond the eternal roar of rain, guessing shapes in the darkness.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
There was this one time they were being chased at high speed. Officers were shouting behind them so loud it was like they were whispering into their ears, and they had guns, and they were shooting, missing them only by inches. And Mark had jumped from roof to roof, slipped at a loose tile, and Eduardo had thought, fear overtaking him like the rain overhead: fuck, he's going to die. He was going to die.

Except Mark didn't. By some miracle he landed on his feet, on a building block, and glanced at Eduardo uneasily, like he too had thought he was going to die.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eduardo's fever climbed to a peak overnight, but mostly, he felt detached, out of his body, barely feeling the pain, only feeling a deeper sort of anxiety and insecurity. 

Mark was wiping the cold sweat away without stopping. He had this thing - he always did - about cleanliness and keeping Eduardo and himself clean, or as clean as they could be, given their circumstances. He filtered and boiled water, washed their clothes and towels, bathed as much as he could, didn't let Eduardo skip even one night, unless they were being chased. And he always washed his hands before handling food, even when he wasn't touching it directly. Never sat down on surfaces other than beds or house chairs so he could keep his pants cleaner, never forgot to wipe clean anything he would use, never ate food that Eduardo already took a bite of. Except this one time.

Mark had nabbed a fresh turkey sandwich and a pack of Twizzlers from a patrolling Officer's messenger bag. 

They played rock-paper-scissors to determine who got what, and Mark, being Mark, won and chose the Twizzlers. But while Eduardo ate the sandwich, he had noticed how hard Mark stared at him, and, unable to stand it any longer, offered him a bite, despite the chances of Mark lecturing Eduardo about germs and saliva and how downright gross it was. 

To his surprise, Mark nodded, then leaned over, took a humble bite, timidly quiet, quietly grateful. And Eduardo had probably fallen in love again, feeling like in a world where even nature followed laws of physics, he would be the exception. It was like Eduardo would and could, reverse gravity, defy inertia. Just because he could bend Mark's rules.

"Wanna kiss you," Eduardo murmured, still feverish, still groggy, still lost in memories and dreams and heady fantasies. This one was one too, really. Because.

Because he couldn't see Mark clearly, not really, just a blur of brown curls, just a halo around his head, the glow of skin, and maybe just the shape of his lips.

Mark murmured quietly, "if I catch whatever you have."

It was a half-hearted threat. Left hanging, unfinished. Eduardo smiled. "You're right," he said, chuckling, coughing, chuckling again. "Maybe another time."

(But then Mark had replied, gently, "yeah, in your dreams," and leaned down to kiss him.)

(His lips were soft. Like his words.)  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Wardo, sit up. Soup," Mark's voice said, loud and echoing. Eduardo was still dazed from sleep, he could barely open his eyes, barely able to shake away his dreams as he came to. But then, suddenly, a spoon was shoved into his mouth. 

"Eat," Mark reiterated.

It was premium corn soup. Mark loved corn soup (though it wasn't like they had a whole variety to choose from), and he never shared it. This confused Eduardo for a bit, but for a while, all he could really think about was the warmth of home and home-cooking, of sun, of what once was.

But the sound of rain outside was unmistakable, and in many ways, indomitable, difficult to ignore.

Eduardo fell back asleep, Mark curling up into his side after he had gone (to do the dishes? To clean around more?) and come back, saying a very soft, "good night."  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
There was one night that had been good. They were sat at a window, looking out, finally dried off after a long run in the rain, Officers at their heels for hours on end.

"Remember what moonlight felt like?" Eduardo had asked, massaging his own leg.

Nights had been too cloudy for moonlight to come through. 

Mark shook his head. "I don't make it a habit, remembering things like that."

He was looking at the stuff surrounding them. The house had two stories, and it wasn't too flooded, because it was on a hill. Most valuables were moved to the second floor (but what good were jewelry and cash, in eternal rain?), and it was clear that the family that had once lived there, had camped at home for as long as they could. 

There were litmus powder and red cabbage powder for pH testing, high quality German water filters, matches, candles, canned fish, food tablets, Ginger Plus, warm socks, a battery-powered radio with no batteries, and a chess board.

Eduardo and Mark had already played three games on it. Eduardo had won two.

"I don't like thinking about life before this," Mark said, without preamble. "Before everything."

Eduardo smiled, feeling rueful. "Right."

"I do prefer when places had names," Mark said. 

"I was from Miami," Eduardo offered. "And, well, São Paulo. Brazil."

"I'm from New York," Mark said. "Just New York."

Now, those were just Inner Zone 4 and Inner Zone 35.

"Remember the taste of ice cream during summer?" Eduardo suggested.

"During The Last Summer, I was coding a game for the kids next door, so they would leave me alone." Mark said.

Eduardo smiled weakly. "Remember when photos had sun flare and you could only see the silhouette of the people you were taking pictures of?" he murmured, thinking back, letting himself indulge in far away memories.

"I'm tired," Mark said, adding nothing more, rubbing at his eye. 

Eduardo took out the photo of his parents he kept in the inside pocket of his jacket and studied it for a moment or two.

"Why did you run away?" Mark asked, quietly watching Eduardo.

Eduardo shrugged. And then, taking out his barometer, said, "I lost my father three-hundred thousand dollars betting on oil futures. Based on weather patterns, when I was in high school."

"Weather patterns," Mark murmured.

"Yeah," Eduardo said. As if weather patterns mattered when, suddenly, out of nowhere, the world would turn grey and rainy forevermore. No one could have predicted it.

Mark looked down at his feet.

"I see patterns, still," Eduardo said. "I think somewhere south, there must be sun."

"Hmm," Mark hummed, not saying much.

Eduardo waited to see if Mark would say something more about The Last Summer. Or if he would reveal the reason why he was on the run, why he was being chased. 

But Mark didn't, only sat straight, looking out, candlelight in the reflection of his eyes, before saying, "good night."

He lay down on the sill, burying his face in a cushion, curling up, as if by doing so, he could escape the world, and dwell in his own.

Eduardo lay with his back against Mark's, wondering what kind of world Mark had escaped from, putting puzzle pieces that didn't quite fit with each other, together.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Eduardo recovered after a dream about Mark. About Mark introducing himself as Jesse at first, then as Danny, and then as James, before finally telling Eduardo, that his real name was in fact, just Mark.

The way Mark said his own name, like he hadn't used it in a long time, made Eduardo certain that that was it. That Mark was... Mark.

"You're not going to live long enough to tell anyone anyways," Mark said. As if, with the knowledge of such a common name, Eduardo had power over him.

"Are you really called Eduardo? That's stupid, telling a stranger your real name. Why can't you be called something simpler to say? Four syllables. What were your parents thinking?"

"My mother called me Edu."

"I'm not going to call you what your mom called you," Mark said.

"Okay," Eduardo shrugged. "I don't want you to call me Edu."

Mark kicked a pebble into the flooding water. 

"You never step into the same river twice," he said, contemplative.

"What?" Eduardo asked, looking at Mark curiously.

"Wardo," Mark responded. "I'm calling you Wardo."

And with that, it was like Mark had power over him, too.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
"Wardo?" Mark said, and Eduardo woke up.

He felt much better. The migraine was gone, the sore throat too.

He looked around languidly, noticing the rain outside. "Shit, how long have I been passed out--"

Eduardo noticed Mark's leg. It was bandaged, and there was old blood seeping through. "Mark, what happened--"

"Wardo, I'm part feline," Mark said, stern.

Eduardo blinked a few times, utterly confused. "What?"

"I'm part-cat," Mark said.

Eduardo really didn't understand.

"I'm part-serval," Mark clarified, frowning.

Eduardo opened his mouth, and then closed it again.

Mark exhaled, looked at his own leg, then said, "it's just a scratch."

Eduardo narrowed his eyes, "that is certainly not just a scratch."

Mark gave Eduardo a sort of angry and impatient look. He leaned in slowly, not breaking his gaze. Eduardo first thought Mark was going to whack him behind the head for being confused or stupid, but instead, Mark leaned in far too close for any sort of sucker punch, and pressed his lips against Eduardo's.

For a few moments Eduardo felt like he was back in his own dreams. He reached up and curled his fingers around Mark's neck, running them through Mark's curls.

But then Mark tensed up against his mouth. His eyes were closed tight, as if he was nervous about something, scared of something.

That confused Eduardo, and suddenly, reality rushed back, with the sound of rain. Eduardo pushed Mark off, catching his breath, heart racing as if he'd just run a marathon, or two. "What-- Mark--?"

"Wardo, you were out cold for a week," Mark murmured, his voice soft. He had opened his eyes, but he was looking at the floor.

Eduardo swallowed dryly. "I'm sorry," he offered.

Mark shook his head, then, repeated, "I'm a hybrid."

Eduardo still couldn't get over the kiss. Had that really happened? 

"Wardo, I'm serious, are you even listening?"

Eduardo looked at Mark's lips. A minute ago they were pressed against his own. They were slightly red now - evidence that the kiss had definitely happened.

"You want to kiss again?" Mark asked, impatient. Eduardo's eyes snapped back up.

"I'm-- shit, sorry, I-- what do you mean by cat--"

Mark kissed Eduardo again, this time with a bit more force. Eduardo was shocked frozen for a moment, but soon he melted into the kiss and started kissing back, giving back what he had taken. Nipping, licking, biting, kissing, passionately, gently, soothingly, desperately. Mark made a small sound at the back of his throat, which made Eduardo hungry for more, and he shifted his body so that he was the one pushing down on Mark. After a few more kisses though, Mark was tapping Eduardo's shoulder, asking to break it off.

They were both out of breath; Mark's lips were a little swollen. He didn't look Eduardo in the eye, but said, with a certain sense of cool-headedness: "awake now?"

Eduardo smiled and frowned at the same time. "I'm fine-- just." He needed a bit of time to recover. "We should talk," he concluded with a heavy sigh.

Mark bobbed his head vaguely, as if a little impatient. "I've already said everything."

Eduardo touched his lips, a little out of it. "I may need a recap."

Mark gave Eduardo a bored look before saying, "you were passed out for a week. I decided in the meantime that you should know I'm a cat hybrid who's broken out of a top secret Ark-sponsored laboratory. I realize I like kissing you. I scratched my leg trying to get into the mini supermarket down the street. That was yesterday. It's fine now."

Eduardo frowned, pinching the skin between his eyes with his finger and thumb. "Mark, one thing at a time, Jesus..."

Mark scowled. "That's highly inefficient, Wardo."

"The mini-supermarket..." Eduardo scrunched his nose, thinking hard, trying to will away the dark spots in his memory. "You mean the one that's flooded? Mark, you told me it was dangerous! The foundations were all weak!" Eduardo sat up, mildly angry. "It could have been a lot worse than just an injured leg-- let me see it." 

Mark flinched away. "It was just a scratch."

"Let me see it," Eduardo reiterated.

Mark showed his leg reluctantly. Eduardo reached out to open the bandages, but Mark retracted his leg immediately.

"What do you mean by you're part-cat?" Eduardo said, pulling Mark's leg back onto his lap. Mark hissed, and then glared at Eduardo.

"Long story short--" Mark started.

Eduardo rolled his eyes. "I want the long story, Mark." His fingers paused at the bandages. And then slowly, he opened it up. "You need to change these."

"I said it's fine."

"Why are you part-cat?"

Mark sat back. "I-- I was recommended to an honours course, in my second year at Harvard. The professor led us to a laboratory, telling us he was going to show us. 'The Future'. Next thing we knew, we were drugged, taken away, caged, and then experimented on."

Eduardo's hands stopped. "H-Harvard? Harvard University?"

Mark didn't meet Eduardo's gaze. "The white-coats at the lab called us Project NOAH. They mostly made hybrids out of us - injected us with DNA samples of animals, especially those that have gone extinct because of the flood."

Eduardo sat up straighter. "That's-- what-- oh god. Mark. No..."

"You know the whole Noah's Ark story, right?"

Eduardo bit his lip. "Yeah, of course."

"Well, we're responsible for the future of humanity and the animal kingdom. We need to survive and shit," Mark explained. "And since we got into Harvard they thought we had 'intelligence' genes too. Bunch of fucking mad pseudoscientists."

"What--"

"They took away our identities, brainwashed us, every night. Made us believe that we were the next Messiahs or something. We had to listen to The Mission all night, on loop. They hammered it in, sometimes literally. We couldn't sleep, never truly."

Eduardo looked at the gash on Mark's leg. "This isn't a scratch, Mark," he said, voice a little shaky. The horrors Mark had revealed invoked images in Eduardo's mind, and it was horrible, to say the least. "Shit, what the fuck. It's why you--" Eduardo started, feeling strangled. "God."

"It's why I ran away," Mark affirmed.

Silence reigned for a while.

"You don't have..." Eduardo said, gesturing ears and a tail. Probably not the most sensible thing to ask, but he didn't know what else to say.

"Thank fuck I don't," Mark deadpanned. 

Eduardo nodded lightly. And then, his eyes snapped at the wound at the side of Mark's neck. "Did they do that?"

Mark followed Eduardo's gaze, and then looked away. "No. I did that."

"What happened?"

"My tracker."

Eduardo didn't want to believe it. "Your tracker?"

"I dug it out."

Eduardo stared at Mark for a few moments.

"Stop staring."

Eduardo softened his expression. "Mark, I'm sorry. I didn't kn--"

"It's why I'm telling you," Mark said.

Eduardo frowned. "Well, I'm glad you trust me enough to--"

Mark retracted his leg slowly. 

Eduardo let him. He did grab for the roll of bandage cloth that lay nearby. "Hey. I'll wrap it up."

Mark hesitated, but gave in. His leg was on Eduardo's lap again.

"Did you disinfect this?" Eduardo asked softly.

Mark bristled mildly. 

Eduardo gave him a look. He placed Mark's leg away carefully, before standing up to get the vodka.

He hadn't stood up in a while though, so the rush of blood was definitely dizzying. Mark held him up, despite wincing at the shift of weight that went straight to his injured leg.

"It's fine, I'm okay," Eduardo said. "Sit."

Mark sat, looking a little put out.

"You said you liked kissing me," Eduardo said when he got back, a small bottle of vodka in his hand.

"I'd rather drink that," Mark quipped, pointing at the vodka. "We have rubbing alcohol. Got it from the mini-supermarket."

"You said you liked kissing me," Eduardo responded, swapping out the vodka, and then grabbing a bag of cotton balls that Mark must have taken from the mini-supermarket too.

"I did indeed, state that," Mark replied.

Eduardo snapped open the bottle after checking its expiry date. "Okay."

"Okay?" Mark asked, confused.

Eduardo poured the alcohol onto the cotton ball, and then, before applying it to the gash, said, "ready or not."

Mark scowled, and then it looked like he was trying to brace for it. It was... kind of cute. Eduardo sighed. He leaned forward and captured Mark's lips with his own, catching him by surprise.

"I like kissing you too," Eduardo murmured. 

"Are you going to disinfect my leg or not?" Mark asked, grumpy.

"All right, princess."

"Am a cat."

Eduardo applied the cotton ball, and Mark hissed like a cat, almost jumped away too.

Once Eduardo was finished, he put away everything, making sure to seal everything carefully. Mark had found a whole box of ziploc bags - which were definitely useful. Mark was poking at his new bandages. 

"I was never a clean person, you know, prior to NOAH," Mark said. "I was messy. I didn't change out of my hoodie for weeks. I ate Twizzlers without washing my hands first. And my room was a prime example of entropy."

Eduardo smiled briefly. "So... bitching about cleanliness. It's a cat thing?"

"Yeah," Mark murmured.

Eduardo reached out. He grabbed Mark's hand and then slowly, interlaced their fingers.

"I was also fearless," Mark said.

Eduardo scoffed. Mark smiled, cheeky.

The rain outside sounded far away now. (Mark's smile was enough to light up the day.)

"I'm sorry you had to go through it. I was-- I graduated from Harvard University," Eduardo admitted. "Shit. What the actual fuck." Eduardo felt angry all of a sudden. What the fuck was wrong with people?

Mark's smile faded. "It's not your fault."

"It isn't-- but it's fucking awful. I--"

"I don't want your pity."

Eduardo frowned, "I wasn't trying to--"

"I told you about it because I didn't want to leave this world without at least telling someone about it. Someone I cared about. Someone who--" Mark paused. "Cared about me." Paused again. "I think."

Eduardo smiled sadly. "I was sick and it scared you. I'm sorry." And then, after a beat, added, "of course I care, Mark."

"Don't skip the Gin Pluses. I found more," Mark said, pointing at a corner where they had dozens of bottles of it now. 

"You mean you risked your stupid ass for more, at the supermarket."

"Don't call my ass stupid."

"I guess it's kind of a nice ass."

"Don't flirt," Mark said, though he seemed to be reddening.

Eduardo leaned into Mark, but didn't close the distance. Mark rolled his eyes and leaned forward to meet his mouth against Eduardo's. It felt like a summer breeze, or the feel of sunlight in winter. It was so good, that for a while, the sound of rain disappeared completely, faded into oblivion.

"God, you're..." Eduardo gasped, closing his eyes, pressing his forehead against Mark's. "I didn't know you liked me," he said.

"Well, it wasn't that simple," Mark said.

"What do you mean?"

"They wanted us to... further our species, right," Mark said. "Save humanity after the flood."

Eduardo opened his eyes, confused. "Who?"

"The white-coats. They wanted us to be able to conceive, no matter our gender," Mark explained, carefully. Vaguely. "So that we could pass on our genes. Our fucked up genes."

Eduardo pulled back. He waited for Mark to explain more, but he didn't.

"I'm not sure I understand," Eduardo prompted.

Mark exhaled slowly, then looked away. "They gave us something to induce our heats." When Eduardo opened his mouth, to ask, Mark added, "they made us go into heat to test our fecundity. We... I... it's hard to get over that kind of feeling where you don't know if it's you or if it's something fucked with your DNA, dictating what and who you want."

"I'm..." Eduardo looked down. "Fuck."

"But I'm over it," Mark said, casually. "I like you."

"It wasn't a dream," Eduardo asked. "When you first kissed me. When I was sick. You said you hoped you wouldn't catch what I had."

Mark gave him a shrug, but then rested his head on Eduardo's shoulder, and Eduardo knew, knew that dream or not, Mark liked him enough for the dream to be real. 

They stayed that way, quietly, for a while. Eduardo thought of Mark landing on his feet. Thought of Mark whining about being clean, of Mark not really sleeping, but sleeping like a cat, on standby, all times, all the time, thought of Mark being in a dark cage that smelled like ethanol or whatever labs smelled like, hating it, abhorring it, sitting in the furthest corner from the door, cold and frightened, but also waiting, and observing, for the right moment to escape. Eduardo was glad that Mark did run away. 

Glad that Mark was now by his side.

Safe, in some sense.

"I like you too," Eduardo said.

"I know," Mark replied.

"Since the moment we met."

"I know."

Eduardo looked at Mark, who wasn't looking at him, and then smiled. Mark looked up at that moment, and mirrored it.

Rain washed over the house, roaring, but only faintly.

Sounds of no damage.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
They stayed there for as long as they could. Found ways to carry their things, hiding everything else, locking it up at high places if they could, so that they could come back, if need be, should they run out, because they would, eventually, run out.

The Ark was building more than just a project. It was trying to outdo God, and nature, and the Earth. It was trying to run away from fate. 

Eduardo and Mark - they weren't running away anymore. Not really. 

All they wanted now, was to find some place to stay dry. All they wanted was to follow the patterns in the sky that indicated that the sun hadn't given up on Earth.

All they wanted was a last glimpse or two of the past, of what once was.  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
And if one day they could kiss in the sun, that would be enough. 

More than enough.

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! I _am_ planning to write a prequel, and an epilogue, so stayed tune. 
> 
> Edit: And the prequel is done. Click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20932232) to read it.
> 
> Edit 2: And the epilogue is out too. Click [here](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21063686) to read it. 
> 
> Leave a comment if you liked this? They seriously make any author's day... 
> 
> Again, happy tsnversary! #ReviveTSN2k19


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